Kiss, Fuck, Make Up
by BobSince1934
Summary: It was nothing a kiss couldn't fix. Or a fuck. Or a rough fuck. Sara makes Tegan say sorry in their own unique way, and she'll pay for spilling their liquor. Quincest oneshot.


Whether I'd busted her lip or she'd ripped my piercing out of my eyebrow, it didn't matter. It was nothing a kiss couldn't fix.

Kiss and make up. We'd taken the phrase to heart long ago. It was shouted at us by our parents and teachers before we were old enough to realize the saying wasn't literal when it applied to siblings. After our fights we would oblige and lock lips, but the tomboys we were back then wouldn't be caught applying makeup onto each other's faces. We always thought we were skipping that part, not doing and just saying we did, until we learned what it meant.

It's amazing what a kiss could clear; clear the air when a secret separated us, clear our minds during that small moment of silence, clear the blood off each other's lips. Kisses became synonymous with 'I'm sorry' and when the situation was too big for sorry to cut it, we just added a little tongue. A hand on the back of the neck with fingers twisted into hair meant we promised never to do it again. Hands on bare hips with shirts hiding the evidence of our digits' movements meant we would do _anything_ to make up for it.

There was a long period of time where things never went any farther. The phrase was _kiss_ and make up, wasn't it? We'd already adapted the phrase to kiss and make out, and to change it even further would be radical. Luckily we discovered things that could help us think outside the box and break the rules, change the saying from kiss and make up to fuck and make up. Unfortunately, those things could start fights as often as solve them.

"I can't believe you dropped the bottle," I accused her.

"Sorry, Sasa," she slurred back at me. I no longer paid attention to the word sorry when it was spoken. Apologies had to be expressed physically between us.

We'd hit drunk several drinks ago, but that didn't mean there weren't still a couple shots left in our second bottle of vodka for the night. At least, there were shots left until Tegan dropped the bottle with her unsteady intoxicated hands. Now the shots were on the floor of the bus and a different type of shots were being fired in the air between us.

"Bitch," I spat, trying to contain the lisp in my voice. If I sounded more sober than her, I could be more pissed about the alcohol, say that before she dropped it we hadn't split it equally and she'd drank more than I had before I had a chance to catch up

"We can just get more," she offered.

"No we can't. Rules are rules. The bus is locked up for the night. I'm not going out on the street this late this drunk anyway. Too good an opportunity for pervs." My eyes shifted to her chest. After the show she'd thrown on a white shirt without changing out of her black bra. Through the cotton, I could see the straps and the cups and the tantalizing bulge of skin escaping each side of her chest as the bra barely covering enough of her breasts to keep her nipples concealed. Putting that shirt on with that bra was a stupid idea. I liked when she was stupid.

She stood from the table and barely avoided slipping on the spilt vodka, like she'd already forgotten it was there. Her toe hit the edge of the empty bottle, shoving it farther under the table. I was just glad it hadn't broken. I wasn't coordinated enough to clean up glass right now or sadistic enough to want the soles of my feet to bleed.

She left the table before I was done ogling her, and in irritation I reached out for her, hoping to grab the back of her bra and pull her back to me. But my depth perception was off and my fingers grabbed nothing but empty air. Tegan came up empty, too. She was scouring all the cabinets, looking for any liquor she could present to me as compensation. But there was no alcohol on the bus, and that was the reason we'd gone out to buy vodka in the first place.

While she was looking behind a box of granola bars, I couldn't help but look at her backside. Her glutes tensed as she stretched up on her tiptoes, and my libido propelled me to my feet. My arms wrapped around the tight set of abs she was developing, and her ass dug deliciously into my crotch.

"There's nothing there, Tee," I whispered in her ear. Gripping her abdomen tighter, I pulled her into me, making her back up a couple inches away from the empty cabinets and let my clit get another sweet taste of friction through our layers of clothes.

A quick glance to the left showed me that we were very much visible in the mirror along the dash of the bus. My guess was that our driver had already seen everything between us, had seen a lot of things being a chauffeur on the road all these years, and our secret was just one of many that didn't even faze him anymore. Still, I had sense enough to lead us away from the open area.

"Come on," I told Tegan, letting my hand slip beneath her shirt for the briefest moment and graze along the ticklish spot between her abs and hip bones, and I used that weak moment to usher her in front of me and herd her into the back area, past the kitchen and the bunks. "Sit," I instructed her, pushing her body down onto the bench. She complied easily, but I didn't know if that was only because I was compelling her to or not. "Good girl," I said. "Stay there. I'll be back."

I slipped back to my bunk as fast as I could, grabbed what I need, and ducked quickly into the bathroom before Tegan or the driver could peek down the aisle and see what I was holding.

Moments later I was back in our control room, pressing the button that released the wall that separated us from the rest of the world, leaving us as alone as we could be. I was satisfied with the barrier between us until I saw Tegan standing.

"Where'd you go, Sasa?"

She moved to hold me, but I stepped away, quickly spinning her around and pinning her to the metal wall. "Did I tell you to sit?" I asked her. She nodded, and I made sure her cheek was pressed firmly against the cool metal, leaving an indent in the shape of the wall on her face. "You disobeyed me," I confirmed. "I guess you'll have to apologize for that, too."

"I'm sorry, Sara," she said as sincerely as possible, her voice slightly muffled from her tongue's limited movement because of the compression on her cheek.

"That's not what I meant," I told her, pushing myself against her once again. This time her arms were in my grasp and she couldn't get away. And this time she felt something between my legs that wasn't there before. I let her register the pressure, assess the presence of the foreign bulge, and moan in recognition before I turned her around and brought our faces together. Her breathing was ragged, and the short bursts of air she let our hit my lips like gusts of wind on a breezy day. I could taste the alcohol as I licked my lips, wetting them to help my words glide out with ease. "Now say you're sorry the right way, and I won't have to kick your ass for all the shit you've done tonight." With the aid of a thrust of my hips, her lips were on mine.

Instantly, all was forgiven. But that didn't mean I wasn't going to have my fun while I could. I parted her lips with my tongue, using the force necessary to break between the supple twin barriers and carry out our battle with our mouths instead of our fists. My hands let go of her arms to rest on her lower back and tangle in the back of her hair, shoving her face further into mine.

I'd made a mistake letting go of her, and the freedom went to her head. She gripped the front of my pants, cupping the erection she found there, and I broke the kiss, grabbing her hand and pinning it against the wall to prevent her from touching me again.

She wiped our saliva off her mouth with the forearm of her free hand, and when she was done I captured that arm, too, unsure of what else she planned to do with it. She looked at me with confusion in her eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked her. "You know better than to touch me first when I've won."

"'Won?'" she quoted. "You didn't win. I kissed. I said sorry. We're even now." To strengthen her words, she lifted a knee into my crotch, pushing the phallus into my clit. I quickly kicked her leg away, trapping it with my own before the pleasure broke my will.

The alcohol must be messing with her head, I thought. She knew better than to question my command. "Just because I forgave you doesn't mean I didn't still win the fight." I shoved a thigh into her crotch even harder than she'd done to me, and she caved much easier than I had to the moan in her throat. "I beat you before you could even land a punch. I made you kiss me before you even lifted an arm. I. Won." She could do nothing but listen and groan as I ground my thigh into the damp apex of her jeans. But I still wanted more from her. "You understand?" I asked, gently rocking my hips into the motion. She nodded so fast a few stray strands of my hair whipped in the breeze, but when she bucked her hips into me I backed away just to make her whine in frustration. "I want to hear you say 'yes,'" I commanded.

Her yes came out as more a gasp than a word, but the intention was clear, and I gave her credit for trying. I debated making her say it again more clearly, but the seam of my jeans felt like it was going to rip if I didn't relive the pressure nestled against it soon.

"Good girl," I whispered. "Now undo my belt."

I gave her the same task she had set out to accomplish in the first place for her punishment simply to prove a point. Even if she knew what I wanted, she wasn't allowed to act unless I'd given her specific instructions to. She'd had the audacity to challenge by authority over her for the night, and I wasn't going to let her think she could try it again.

I allowed her one free hand to complete her task, and I watched her slender fingers wrap around the piece of leather and lift it from its metal fasten. "Now the pants," I told her, and she took hold of the zipper and button one by one until a triangle of my boxers could be seen beneath the rest of the denim. Confident she wouldn't try any funny business, I let her other hand go so she could remove my pants.

She worked the fabric halfway down my thighs before she realized I wasn't going to help her get me out of them the rest of the way. Locking eyes with me, she confirmed what she had to do, and her knees met the ground with a light slap.

At eye level she easily pushed the denim down to my ankles, and only then did I kick the cumbersome material off my body completely. She almost rose again until I placed the palm of my hand on the crown of her head. "Boxers too," I ordered.

Finally my cock sprung free, relieved from the pressure of restriction, and I sighed in content as I flung my underwear across the room. Tegan's head had backed up against the wall to give space for the phallus to settle, but my hand still on her head did not go unregistered to her. It was a silent command, and she slowly inched forward, preparing to do something she didn't often have to worry about doing.

The head of my cock tapped lightly against her cheek, and she nuzzled her face against it to get a feel for the silicone, but I could tell it was also a stall for time. With a firm grip, I grabbed the base of the cock and gave her cheek a much harder slap, signaling her to get on with it. She licked her lips in preparation, but quickly decided that wouldn't be enough lube and instead spit lightly on the tip before taking it between her lips.

I moaned at the first press of the cock's base against my clit and watched Tegan slowly bob her head, taking an inch or so of the dick into her mouth. Slight indents formed on her cheeks, and I could tell she was sucking me, but I couldn't feel it. To give her the message that I didn't have a real dick and that that wasn't going to cut it, I thrusted forward lightly, forcing another inch into her mouth. She got the point and slowly started bobbing her head up and down again, sending my cock around her tongue and into the flesh of her cheek. Watching the shape of my dick bulge against the outside of her cheek was a nice sight for a little while, but she was still barely taking any length, and I wanted to watch all of the strap-on disappear behind her lips.

Grabbing the back of her neck stilled her, and I tried cramming my cock down her throat as gently as possible, though the temptation to fuck her face as hard as I could was very much present. I knew she couldn't handle that, though, and when I began to pump in and out of her mouth, I did it achingly slowly. Still, her hand found the base of my shaft and eased the phallus out of her mouth, and she was gagging and coughing slightly as it exited completely.

I rolled my eyes in frustration, but I wasn't about to hurt her and make her try again. She clearly wasn't capable, and I roughly helped her to her feet. Her coughing stopped quickly, and as soon as it did I peeled her from the wall and pushed her forward, leaning her body over the table, stomach first.

"You are really bad at blow jobs" I informed her, spreading her legs with my own and reaching for the button on her jeans. As I slid them down along with her panties, I leaned forward, brushed the hair out of her ear with nose and said, "Remind me to make you practice _a lot_ more." She whimpered and whether it was in protest or from the frustration of finally being exposed to the air I didn't know and I didn't care. I preoccupied myself with pulling the hem of her shirt over her head and slipping my hands beneath the cups of her bra. Her nipples were already hard, and as I kneaded her breasts in my palms, my own nipples responded to the contact, poking through the fabric of my shirt. I ignored them, though, to focus on a bigger ache.

One look down gave me the most beautiful view of Tegan's pussy, lips swollen and open, exposing her moist entrance to me ready for taking. One fist gipped the strap-on, steadying myself as the smell of Tegan filled the air and my nostrils. The other gave Tegan's ass a nice slap that left a light pink handprint against the skin and made Tegan yelp so loudly that the door wasn't going to stop our driver from hearing us.

To appease her dripping need, I dipped two fingers into her cunt, coating them in fluid and stroking her walls. With a slight scissoring of my fingers, I assured the easy entrance of my cock into where I needed it most. Tegan whined again as I pulled out, and I wiped the creamy fluid from my hands onto the spit-ridden shaft of the cock.

I couldn't have held out another second if I'd wanted to, and when I plunged the entire length of the strap-on inside of her, it was sheer bliss. "This is more like it," I moaned.

There was no resistance as my cock slid in and out of her pussy, each time coated in more cum than the thrust before it. Each hump produce a low moan from Tegan and the wet sound of the strap-on burrowing inside her, and my own groans were almost masked by the panting and heavy sighs. If Tegan heard my groans and took them as a sign that I liked the way she was rolling her hips back onto me, then good. If she didn't hear me, I was fine with that, too. I didn't want my pleasure to make me look weak or like I wasn't in control of the situation anymore. For reinforcement, I dug my nails further into the back of her thigh and tugged hard on her hair. She hissed in pain, but I could tell by the way she sped up her movements that it was a good pain.

I had no shame in admitting that doggy style was one of the best positions. I had all the access I needed to her cunt, and her tits were just a reach around her underside away, brushing lightly against the table top with each thrust and sway. Her back was also within scratching distance, and I could easily rake my nails across her flesh if I wanted to, leave thin trails of red for her to notice in the mirror tomorrow, but at this point I was too far gone to concentrate on an act as delicate as being rough and causing pain. I didn't want to lose control and actually hurt her, and those punishments were reserved for much more serious offenses anyway. The hair tugging was enough, and I could tell she was content with that. She was growing out her hair for me for a reason after all.

The sweat between both of our bodies was making my hand slip from her skin, and I had to move my hand from her thigh to her waist and tighten my grip. Her hips gave me a good leverage, and I was able to keep my pace. I could see Tegan's knuckles go white as she shifted her hands mere inches along the edge of the table, leaving foggy handprints in their previous spots from the heat of her skin. We were fogging up the windows to the point that you couldn't even tell they were tinted. If you looked in from outside, you wouldn't be able to see anything anyway. At least I didn't have to worry about anyone but our driver seeing us like this, animals in primal lust.

The more we fucked, the more I forgot the strap-on wasn't an actual part of my body. I swore I could feel every movement, every ridge of her walls, and every drop of fluid leaking from us both. The numb, silicone barrier turned into pleasure as intense as if I was experiencing it directly, and when my orgasm came, it surprised both of us.

Cumming had made the effects of the alcohol wear off, but the dopamine was just as intoxicating to my brain and I could barely register that I'd stopped pounding into her until after each wave of pleasure had rippled through me.

"Sara, please," she begged.

I was panting and exhausted, and if I felt like being enough of a bitch, I could leave her hanging right now; open the door, slip into my bunk, and go to sleep, leaving her to cover herself up and finish herself off. She'd turned around to face me, though, and her lips met mine in a plea so full of need I couldn't abandon her.

I looked down again, and the adrenaline rushed back into my body. Tegan was wetter than before, and her entrance was calling to me, and if I didn't have a taste of her I was going to die. It was my turn to get on my knees, and with her sitting on the counter it provided the perfect opportunity for my lips to meet her second set of lips.

Face instantly coated in cum, I gave her clit a few teasing flicks of the tongue for good measure before collecting enough juices on my tongue to penetrate her, writhing my way inside her and tasting every tangy flavor her walls hit me with. By the way she rode my face, I could tell she was already far along, and grabbing her ass and pulling her towards me gave me all the leverage I needed to push my tongue into her sweet spot and send her over the edge, her cum flowing onto my tongue as her walls contracted around me.

Her thighs were gripping my head so hard I became lightheaded, and I didn't even remember licking up every last drop of her, but when I pulled away she was completely cleaned. I never wanted to taste anything but her in my mouth again, and I couldn't not share her flavor with her. When we kissed, her juices smeared along both our faces.

I leaned my body weight on her for support, and the table seemed to carry both of us as we kissed again and again, the intensity slowly dying down between us. Lazily, we pecked lips one last time before I nuzzled my face into her sweaty neck.

"We've made up, yeah?" she asked, lightly hugging my body with the remaining energy she possessed.

"Oh yeah," I said. The heat between my thighs had more than made up for the burning my throat would have felt had Tegan not spilled the alcohol. "This was way better than a couple of shots."


End file.
